


Thwarted

by julien (julie)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Frustration, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-11-01
Updated: 1998-11-01
Packaged: 2020-12-20 22:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21064109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien
Summary: It’s not the falling in love that’s a problem, though the two men sure do manage to get in their own way at times. The real problem is the impossibility of Chris and Vin ever finding even the briefest moment in which to be alone together.





	Thwarted

**Author's Note:**

> **First published:** November 1998 in the zine Diverse Doings #3, a multimedia slash zine
> 
> **Kudos:** Chosen as **Best Story** in the Miscellaneous Fandoms: Non-Science Fiction category of the STIFfie Awards, 1998.

# Thwarted 

♦

Vin Tanner had never believed in love at first sight; he’d always assumed it was nothing more than a frivolous fiction. He was belatedly, however, reconsidering the notion, and deciding it wasn’t so impossible after all. For the love he felt for Chris Larabee had proceeded directly from the moment they’d met, and had quickly grown to maturity during that first week they spent helping the people in the Seminole village, and there’d been a feeling of utter inevitability about it.

The town where they’d met had its fair share of troubles. And, of course, dealing with trouble was how Chris and Vin met… There’d been a gang of drunken cowboys, angry and afraid due to the death of their trail boss, and looking for someone to blame; they tried to make the wrong things right by hanging Nathan Jackson, the young healer who’d only wanted to help. Mary Travis tried to stop them, and got a booted foot in the face for her troubles. Vin decided he’d better try saving the man… He headed back into his employer’s store, took a rifle from one of the display cases, and stepped outside again. His boss announced, “You walk off with that rifle, and you’re fired.”

“Hell, I’m probably gonna get myself killed,” Vin murmured, loading the gun and checking the sights, “now I’ve gotta worry about a new job, too.”

But that was when Vin Tanner first saw Chris; not that he’d known at the time that the black-garbed stranger was _the_ Chris Larabee, the notorious gunslinger. All Vin knew was that this man seemed prepared to help confront the gang. A meeting of gazes, a quick assessment, a nod; that was how Chris and Vin agreed to face this together.

They won.

“Where did you come from?” Mary Travis asked Chris afterwards, confusedly seeking a story for her newspaper.

“Saloon,” was his laconic reply.

“Where are you going?” she called after the men as they walked away side by side, Nathan trailing along behind.

“Saloon,” Chris and Vin dryly chorused.

That’s how it was between the two of them, right from the beginning: perfect, wordless communication; partnership; the mutual respect of two intelligent, competent, ethical men.

Soon Chris had undertaken to help the beleaguered Seminole village nearby, and promised to try hiring another six men for a week, all for the princely sum of five dollars each. As if Chris Larabee were doing it for the money… Nathan leaped right in and volunteered, of course; Vin wasn’t too tardy in joining up, either, which earned him one of Chris’s smiles; and they soon found another four gunmen.

Vin Tanner was already falling in love, and the time they spent together preparing to defend the village only served to push him further. The fact that Chris was handsome, and apparently unaware of it, didn’t hinder proceedings at all; but Vin figured he’d have loved this lost soul, this noble soul, this damaged soul, no matter what form it came in. Because Vin felt his own soul to be in harmony with Chris, right from the first.

Actually, the suddenness of this reaction wasn’t what most surprised Vin, even though he hadn’t believed such things were possible. And he certainly wasn’t surprised that the object of his affections was a man; Vin had had several rather pleasant encounters and affairs with both men and women. What shocked him was the depth of it. Nothing he’d experienced had quite prepared him for this emotion, this commitment. This beginning of what he knew would be the truest and best of his loves. He’d never felt the lack of real love before, but now he figured that was only because he hadn’t known what he was missing.

The love was its own justification; he honestly believed he was a better man and the world was a better place because of it. Regardless of whether anything more ever eventuated, Vin would be content simply to have finally experienced this. He could already feel the loving doing him a powerful lot of good; what more could he need?

♦

Such a miracle had only happened to Chris Larabee once before: Sarah Jacobs had fallen in love with him despite every reason not to. That such a smart, beautiful, talented woman had chosen him still made no sense to Chris. That a smart, beautiful, talented man like Vin Tanner chose him now made even less sense – one instance of Fate being that kind or that absent-minded, he could deal with. Two such aberrations in a lifetime was ludicrous. It only confirmed Chris in his belief that if there was a God, he was a cruel-humored bastard.

There was no mistaking the matter, though: Vin was more discreet about it than Sarah had been, but the ardent look in his eyes when he focused on Chris echoed hers exactly… Chris guiltily found himself appreciating the few moments in which Vin let down his guard, when this man’s love and sensuality were there shaping his mouth and magnetizing his body.

Chris, however, didn’t figure anything would come of this situation with Vin. Following the first miracle, it had taken all of Sarah’s faith and determination, and all of Buck’s considerable powers of persuasion, to push Chris into proposing. What either of them thought Chris had to offer a wife was beyond him. Though the irony of the unrepentant scoundrel Buck Wilmington singing the praises of marriage and the joys of settling down, well, it still made Chris smile when he was in the right mood. And yet Buck had been right – Sarah, and the home she and Chris made together, and the son they brought into the world, had been exactly what Chris most wanted. Those were the best years of his life. Wholly undeserved, of course. And to say that it had turned out badly was the most terrible of understatements.

The memories of the last time Chris had seen his wife alive, three long years ago now, were all too vivid. He didn’t even have to close his eyes to see once more the profound sadness on her face, as if she’d known there would be no more farewells, as if she’d known all along it would come to this. But then why would she ever have loved him in the first place, why would she have cast her lot with him despite her family’s objections, if she’d foreseen what disaster Chris would bring her?

And Adam, sweet, strong little Adam, heir to his mother’s beauty; still too young to realize what a mistake it was to place all his trust and adoration in his father’s hands…

It was time for Chris to go find the bottle of whisky he’d brought with him to the Indian village. The memories always haunted Chris, of course, but when they became this painful, the only solace he could hope for was in the numbness of drink. It wasn’t an answer, but it got him through. Young J.D. was already drunk, trying to cope with the realities of his first gunfight – Chris thought he might as well follow suit.

♦

Vin entrusted Chris with the tale of how Vin Tanner, law-abiding bounty hunter, ended up with a price on his own head. Despite the risk of being hung for a murder he did not commit, Vin was determined to return to Tascosa in order to clear his name once and for all. Chris, to Vin’s astonishment, had suggested he accompany him. Well, the way he’d made the offer was more like a drawled, “Got any saloons in Tascosa…?”

Once they’d returned to town victorious from the Seminole village, the seven men began either resettling or getting ready to move on. And Vin of course had to move on.

He found Chris in the saloon, at a table with a bottle of spirits, sitting there leaning forward on his folded arms in order to best contemplate the brimming contents of a shot-glass. It made a deceptively peaceful tableau.

Although Vin didn’t know what Chris had against cowboys, it had been made clear that no one was to use the term in reference to him. So it was with a sense of delightful danger that Vin said, “Hey, cowboy. Can I join you?”

Chris turned his head to look up at him, unmoved by the insult or by Vin’s irrepressible smile. When Vin doffed his hat and sat down, Chris simply pushed the glass of liquor over to him.

“I was thinking about getting an early start to Tascosa,” Vin announced.

“I was thinking about whisky,” Chris replied. The two men looked at each other. “A room,” Chris continued, “a bed.” He was smiling slightly. “More whisky.”

_Damn_, thought Vin. _Could this man be flirting with me?_

“Why don’t you give it a few days?” Chris asked.

Vin replied flatly, “With this bounty on my head, I ain’t got a few days.” And he swallowed the whisky, calling himself ten kinds of idiot for shrugging Chris off.

“I’ve never met a man who was in such a hurry to get himself hung.”

“It’s a chance I gotta take,” Vin said. “Need to clear my name. I’m leaving in the morning.” He took a breath before offering, “Wouldn’t blame you if you preferred to stay.”

Chris was almost smiling. “What are the women like in Tascosa…?” he drawled.

The two men shared a level look. _Oh yes_, thought Vin, _he knows what I’m feeling for him right now_. “Don’t come much livelier.”

The smile grew into something genuine. “See you in the morning,” Chris said. And then he got up and left, no doubt having business to take care of before their departure.

Vin was caught somewhere between pride and joy, his spirits higher than the whisky could have taken him: Chris Larabee was going to Tascosa with him, wanting to help clear Vin’s name, wanting to ensure his safety. And they’d be alone the whole way there… and the whole way back, too, if Vin survived. Ah, Vin wasn’t really counting on anything progressing between them, but a man never knew when he might be blessed.

♦

A rare rainstorm pelted down as Chris Larabee packed a few belongings, preparing to head for Tascosa. Chris wasn’t about to risk starting something with this man, but he’d bide his time, and be a friend to Vin; and eventually Vin, good-hearted man that he was, would find someone worthier and more reasonable to love. In the meantime, Chris could at least help him out from under this burden of undeserved trouble.

The two of them were fixing their saddlebags, literally only moments away from riding out of town, when they heard gunfire from the saloon where Judge Travis’s court was in session. Vin and Chris got there in time to prevent worse – the judge was wounded and J.D., the town’s young sheriff, had been knocked unconscious – but not in time to stop the accused from escaping with his low-life friends.

Chris suggested a ruse to lull the bad guys into a false sense of security: he, Vin, J.D. and Mary Travis pretended the judge had died of his wounds; they even buried a coffin filled with rocks, and held a brief grave-side service, all confusion and muffled laughter. Meanwhile, Judge Travis had been hidden away in Chris’s room to recover from his injuries.

“What do you believe in, Mr. Larabee?” the judge asked when he finally regained consciousness, and worked out where he was and who was taking care of him.

“Not as much as I used to,” Chris replied.

“From what I can see, more than most.”

The seven men who’d helped save the Indian village now regrouped in order to track down the accused and bring him back to Judge Travis for justice. Impressed, the judge promptly offered to hire them all to enforce the law in this town during his absences. J.D. Dunne, Ezra Standish, Josiah Sanchez, Nathan Jackson and Buck Wilmington soon agreed.

“Got some things need taking care of,” Vin Tanner said, evidently thinking of Tascosa, “but I guess they’ll keep.”

“I have a feeling I’m gonna regret this,” Chris Larabee announced, deciding to surrender to respectability and responsibility for now. He’d be in good company, at any rate. The seven of them kept watch outside the saloon while the judge reconvened his court session.

♦

It was stupid to stay, Vin ruefully reflected. He was crazy to stay in this town where everybody knew his name, and no one had any real reason to be loyal to him. Eventually someone would come hunting him, wanting that five hundred dollars for taking him back to Tascosa, dead or alive. It was suicidal to stay…

And yet Vin found that he couldn’t leave. He wanted to be wherever Chris Larabee was. One day sooner rather than later Chris would insist they resume their interrupted journey to Tascosa; Vin trusted him on that, even though they never spoke of it. Chris would make sure that Vin had the chance to clear his name. In the meantime, Vin simply reveled in being in love.

Wonderful, this glow that suffused him and contented him while Vin was in Chris’s company. Sometimes Vin wondered how the others could possibly remain oblivious to what he was feeling, what with it shining out of him like this. All he had to do was be next to this man, and his soul would veritably wallow in it…

The feelings weren’t mutual, though. It was obvious that Chris was aware of Vin’s response to him, but that was all. They were friends. _Hell, that’s enough_, Vin reminded himself. _There’s other men who’d have killed me for such an affront_. Vin wasn’t going anywhere now, but neither did he expect anything in return for staying.

As for Chris – well, tonight he was certainly acting as self-destructively as Vin, but it wasn’t for the sake of being with someone he loved. Chris was wallowing just like Vin was, but it was in whisky rather than emotion…

The seven of them were all hanging around the saloon for the evening. Josiah was pontificating on the meaning of life, with sensible interjections from Nathan; J.D. was being taken in by Buck’s tales of adventure; Ezra was playing poker with a few cowboys, and winning virtually every hand. And Chris Larabee was slowly but steadily working his way through a bottle of whisky, while Vin sat patiently beside him.

“Bed,” Chris muttered as the night wore on, and the other men began to talk of turning in. “Time for bed.”

“Yeah,” agreed Vin, hardly even entertaining the whimsical notion that he was being propositioned.

“More than time for bed. Better get me home, Vin.”

“Sure.” Vin stood – and was about to head for the saloon doors when he belatedly realized that Chris really had drunk far too much liquor. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Chris said with a lopsided smile that sent Vin’s pulse skipping, “I’m fine.”

Vin hauled Chris to his feet, and they walked down the main street together, Chris having flung an arm round Vin’s shoulders for the sake of remaining upright. Vin figured it was unscrupulous to find sensual pleasure in a friendly embrace, but he couldn’t help himself – it felt so good to have Chris’s slim frame jostling up against his own. He managed to restrain himself from offering the support of an arm around Chris’s waist, though he guessed Chris would have allowed it. Such indulgences weren’t necessary.

“Bed,” Chris repeated once they’d reached his rented room.

“That’s the plan,” Vin murmured – and ducked his head to avoid the knowing glint in Chris’s eyes. This friend of his was well and truly pickled right now. With what he hoped was a disinterested touch, Vin divested Chris of his gun-belt and his boots, and then he lay the man down on the bed and covered him up warmly. “Sleep well, Chris.”

When Vin drew away, though, Chris made a grab at him; fingers locked around Vin’s wrist. “Where the hell are you going?” Surly tones, and a resentful stare.

Vin stood there contemplating his friend, his love. So much for Chris being aware but uninterested: if Vin wasn’t mistaken, Chris was expecting some kind of consummation tonight. Was that why he’d gotten so drunk? _Can’t you face this any other way?_

An impatient tug from Chris, but Vin backed away another step. Chris demanded, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” Vin gently replied, knowing he must turn down this unexpected offer. The problem wasn’t that Chris wouldn’t be capable of much, because frankly Vin would like nothing better than just to climb into his bed and hold Chris in his arms right now. But Vin had to refuse. _My God_, Vin thought, _the amount of whisky it took to allow him to ask me_… “I’m going home,” he repeated. “You’ll thank me in the morning. If you even remember.”

Another resentful glare aimed full at him, then Chris dropped Vin’s wrist as if offended. As Chris turned away, burying his face in the blankets and pillow, Vin walked quietly out. He felt like he was tearing in two, but he walked out of Chris’s room, and out of the boarding house, and down the street to his own room. Facing down desperadoes was nothing compared to the courage it took to do that.

♦

Chris woke to the familiar results of a whisky binge… He’d never been much of a drinking man until three years ago, but he’d sure made up for lost time since then. The light through the flimsy curtains felt like bullets in his eyes – it must be getting on for noon already. His involuntary groan of self-disgust only exacerbated the pounding in his head.

The physical results were painful, and there was an urgency to one of them; Chris dragged himself out of the tangled blankets in order to relieve himself. Then he collapsed back across the bed, trying to live through the sickness in his gut. These binges always brought a complete lack of dignity, both in his vague memories of the night before and his all-too-immediate experiences of the day after.

In addition to the indignity this morning, there was a horrible tinge of embarrassment that somehow related to Vin Tanner. Chris screwed up his face, trying to recall what had happened. Had Vin finally said something? Made some kind of tentative advance? _How revoltingly did I turn him down?_

Chris groaned some more, buried his poor head under the pillow, and sought the oblivion of sleep. When he wasn’t blessed with unconsciousness, though, he got up again and staggered off to the town’s only restaurant, squinting against the daylight, looking for food.

Buck was there eating his midday meal; he eased his old friend into a seat beside him, murmuring, “Why do you do this to yourself?” Chris just stared back at him. “Yeah, all right,” Buck continued, “I know _why_. I just wish you wouldn’t…”

“Leave me alone, Buck.” When the waitress showed up, Chris ordered a breakfast with the works, gambling on it staying down long enough to start doing him some good.

“There has to be an end to this sometime, Chris.”

“Yeah. When I die.”

Buck sat there considering him for a long while, letting his meal get cold. “Yeah,” he eventually repeated, “when you die.” And he sounded real sad about that.

Chris spent the afternoon recovering and warily avoiding Vin. Which made him feel ridiculous. What the hell was he scared of? After whiling away the evening at the saloon – drinking nothing more than two glasses of beer – Chris belatedly realized that Vin hadn’t shown up, and he began wondering if Vin was avoiding him, too. That didn’t seem right. He decided he’d better investigate.

After checking the restaurant, the stables and Josiah’s church, Chris headed for Vin’s room, and knocked on the door. A long moment later the door was opened no more than an inch or two, and Vin’s warm eyes glanced at him through the gap. “Come on in,” Vin murmured, before disappearing again.

The door remained where it was. Chris took a deep breath before pushing it open for himself. The sight that met his searching gaze was almost his undoing… Vin sat cross-legged on a rug with his back to the fire, dressed in nothing more than a fresh cotton nightshirt; he was leaning back, propping his weight on his outstretched arms, letting his long hair fall free in order to dry it.

A visceral memory slammed through Chris: Sarah doing the same; Sarah half-naked in the firelight, combing out her long dark hair until it shone like polished ebony, and Chris could barely wait for all that bounteous hair to dry before he took her to their bed…

Eventually Chris realized he was just standing there staring at Vin. Foolishness threatened. He closed the door behind him and looked around, but of course the only chair in the room was pulled up close to the fireplace, and Chris wasn’t about to sit on Vin’s bed. The chair it would have to be. He walked over there, and surrendered to the chair’s deep embrace.

“You all right?” Vin asked after a time.

“Yeah,” Chris replied. And the silence returned.

Vin twisted around, lithe and strong as a mountain cat, so he was sitting facing the fire; then he curled up so that his hair tumbled forward, and he began brushing his hair down over his head, so that the nape of his neck was exposed; the width of his shoulders and the shape of his ribs were apparent where the cotton pulled taut… Sarah had been delightfully fleshy, but Vin was hard and lean. In fact, Chris was reminded of the working girl he visited on occasion; Vin resembled Lydia’s spare nut-brown strength more than Sarah’s pale plumpness, though the emotions Vin invoked were far more akin to Sarah’s love than Lydia’s no-nonsense companionship.

Vin’s hair looked like caramel silk, all clean and still damp like this. “Maybe I should just cut it all off,” Vin said. “Save myself the trouble.”

“Don’t.”

Those warm eyes glanced up at Chris through silken strands, and Vin softly chuckled.

Chris found that he was sorry he hadn’t walked in earlier – he could have helped wash Vin’s hair for him like he’d done for Sarah every now and then. But then he’d have been utterly lost, wouldn’t he? This man, his friend, was quite something.

It belatedly occurred to Chris that it was unfair to witness Vin’s love for him, and then think of Sarah; unfair to recognize Vin’s sensuality, and do nothing more than remember his wife. Vin deserved a more honest and direct reaction than that.

Not that Chris had any experience with this kind of thing. The thought of loving a man was strange to him; he hardly knew the way to describe, let alone think about, Vin’s all-too-masculine attractions. But Chris had been living beyond the pale for three years now, and this didn’t feel like too much of a stretch. In any case, Vin brought a lot of credibility to the matter; if Vin Tanner was comfortable with men loving men, then who was Chris to second-guess him?

_Well, even if it’s possible_, Chris thought, _I still have to get used to the idea_. And by the time he did that, Vin would probably have moved on anyway; Chris could hardly be Vin’s only option, and certainly not his best option.

The man had turned his back to the fire again, and stretched his legs out before him. Chris tried not to look at those lean bare feet, those fine strong calves with their own subtle covering of caramel – but that meant he had to look higher. Vin’s hair was almost dry now; Chris could tell because the curls were reforming, and the caramel silk was thickening into toffee. Soon, if this had been Sarah, he’d have been allowed to scoop her up in his arms and carry her through to their room. “I gotta go,” Chris muttered.

Vin was looking at him with laughter in those beautiful eyes, knowing that Chris was tempted. And yet Vin was thoroughly at peace, all that power of his reined in. Not pushing an inch, even though the person he wanted was right there within reach. Not teasing or flirting with him as Sarah had sometimes done; simply sitting there with a happy smile quirking his lips. Nevertheless, Chris suspected that if he approached Vin, instead of Sarah’s surrendering welcome Chris would find an energy to match his own.

“I gotta go,” Chris said again, and he stood. Before he could crouch down and kiss that damnable mouth, he strode towards the door.

“Goodnight, Chris,” murmured Vin.

And Chris was out in the dark corridor, heading for the safety of solitude.

♦

The seven men made quite a team, Vin reflected with some pride. Between them they had outwitted and outclassed a gang of bank robbers, despite the robbers having kidnapped a woman and Buck, and holding the woman’s young daughter hostage. Chris had gotten himself hired by the gang, pretending to be just another murderous criminal until the last moments. It all worked out perfectly.

Not that Vin knew that at the time; once the shooting was over, and mother and daughter were reunited, Vin had tracked Chris down in order to reassure himself that his love hadn’t been hurt. Chris was in the stables, unsaddling his horse, quietly getting on with the next task rather than indulging in any kind of celebration.

“You all right?” Vin asked as he walked up to him.

“Yeah.” Chris shot him an amused look before turning away to deal with the horse’s bridle. “You’ve been asking me that a lot lately.”

Vin didn’t respond; they both knew the reason for his concern. Instead he observed, “The judge’ll be glad of what we did today. We work well together, the seven of us.”

“Not so bad,” Chris muttered. But Vin could tell he was pleased. As Chris came back from wiping the bit and hanging up the bridle, those bright-sky eyes flashed humor at him again, and there was an air of satisfaction about the man.

_Imagine that_, Vin thought; _Chris Larabee in a mild mood_… Maybe it was time to ask. Vin was used to relying on his instincts in these matters, so he acted rather than questioned. “We work well together,” he slowly murmured, focused wholly on Chris, “the two of us.”

And Chris actually took a step towards him, contemplation replacing the humor on his handsome features. The two of them considered each other from a distance of only three or four feet. “Guess it can’t hurt to try just this once,” Chris muttered, apparently unaware that he was voicing his truest thoughts. And he took another step forward.

Vin matched it, moving as smoothly and unthreateningly as he knew how, figuring Chris was the most skittish creature in the stables this night… Gaze dropping to Vin’s mouth, Chris lifted a hand as if intending to caress Vin’s stubbled cheek –

“_There_ you are! What are you guys doing?”

It was Buck, and his tone of good cheer meant that he had no idea how Chris and Vin might truthfully answer that. Chris turned away, picked up a brush, and began working on his horse.

“You all right, Chris?” Buck asked.

“I’m fine,” was the brief reply.

Vin waited there, trusting that he appeared casual, fully aware that Chris wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“That’s good, buddy. Hey, Vin. We did great tonight, didn’t we? The money’s all recovered, everyone’s safe; Mrs Travis couldn’t be happier if she tried. Why don’t you two come over to the saloon, and have a nip or two on me?”

Chris said, “Not tonight, Buck.”

“No?” Buck cried out in surprise. “Why not?”

Vin dared to hope that he knew what Chris’s plans were.

“J.D. has the robbers in jail?” Chris asked Buck.

“Yeah. Those that are still standing, at least. Josiah and Ezra are with him. Nathan and the undertaker are dealing with the rest.”

“Well, I got their horses in the stalls over there. Why don’t you and Vin start getting them settled for the night?”

Buck and Vin exchanged glances. For what were no doubt rather different reasons, neither of them particularly wanted to spend the next hour or more in the stables working on other men’s horses. But Chris was right. It was only fair to the animals, and the stableboy would have gone to bed hours ago. Vin found a wry smile on his lips, which Buck shared. They shrugged, and got to work.

♦

It was probably just as well to leave it be, Chris reflected while he ate breakfast, thinking of what had almost transpired the previous night. Buck had unwittingly timed his interruption well. Chris could admit that he wasn’t uninterested in loving Vin, but there was no good reason to take the risk, that was all. Vin deserved better – a better man, and better luck than Chris could bring him.

Chris had taken his plate out through the back of the restaurant, and was sitting on their steps, gazing out to the hills that surrounded the town. He liked the illusion of solitude this gave him, for everyone else was drawn to the illusion of civilization along the main street, along the front of all the buildings.

Once he was done eating, Chris leaned his back against one of the balustrade posts, stretched his legs out, and sipped at his mug of strong black coffee. It was the most peace he had felt for days. Weeks. Months, even.

He was still determined to be a friend to Vin, just like he tried to be a friend to Mary Travis. Not that Mary’s tentative interest in Chris had been made of the same stuff as Vin’s love – she’d been far too easily discouraged. But, for what it was worth, Chris gave her friendship. Just like he tried to be a friend to Lydia. That relationship began and ended in mutual convenience, of course, but at least it was honest. Vin was unbearably honest at times, though of course loving him would hardly be convenient…

The coffee worked its invigorating way through Chris’s veins while he contemplated what might have happened if only Buck hadn’t shown up. Beyond a kiss, he had only the vaguest imaginings of what this might involve, but for some reason he was certain that it would be good. Vin himself was beautiful in ways that Chris had never appreciated before, and Chris was sure Vin would bring all his cleverness and directness to the act of love…

As Chris was puzzling over the possibilities, the object of his musings appeared at the back door of the restaurant, looking more self-conscious than Chris had ever seen him. “They told me to ask you if you want more coffee,” Vin announced, brandishing the pot as proof.

Chris couldn’t help but smile. It was obvious that Vin didn’t want Chris to think he was being hunted down. Once he’d swallowed the last of the potent liquid in his mug, Chris stood up. God help him, but how could he possibly leave this be? “It’s not coffee I want,” he muttered, and he handed the empty mug over to Vin.

Startled pleasure suffused Vin’s face. A still moment burgeoned as the two men stared at each other, realizing that they shared a need and a want.

And then Vin moved. With alacrity he turned back inside, put the mug and pot down somewhere beyond Chris’s line of sight, then came back out. With no further words exchanged, they headed down the steps together, and began walking along the back of the buildings. Vin’s room was closest, the room he rented above the store where he used to work… That’s where they’d go.

As they passed one of the alleyways between the wooden buildings, Chris heard someone breaking the morning’s peace, shouting and running. He paid it no mind. Someone else could deal with it. What he cared about right now was the smile on Vin’s face: Chris had no idea how he’d earned or caused such a beautiful expression, but it warmed him through and through.

This couldn’t be wrong. Chris might not fully understand it, and it might come at too high a price, but this couldn’t possibly be wrong.

“Hey! Mr. Larabee!” It was J.D. pelting down the next alleyway, one hand clutching his derby hat. “Mr. Larabee! Mr. Tanner!”

Chris almost let out a groan. He and Vin reluctantly paused as J.D. ran up to them.

“Just the gentlemen I was looking for,” J.D. gasped, out of breath. “I need your help.”

Aware that Vin was looking to him to make the decision, Chris turned to stare off into the wilderness again. Perhaps this wasn’t meant to happen after all. Perhaps Chris should just be a friend to this man, and let Vin find someone worthier of his love. Perhaps Chris was meant to be alone. Perhaps he was doing far too much thinking these days…

“What’s the problem, J.D.?” Chris asked.

♦

There were so few opportunities to progress this, Vin ruefully reflected. Spending the day helping Josiah fix up the church provided plenty of time for thought about his current situation. If the problem wasn’t J.D. getting underfoot, it was Nathan being too earnest to take a hint that three was a crowd. If it wasn’t Buck being sociable and insisting on them all spending long hours at the saloon, then it was someone needing the help of the seven gunmen. And if it wasn’t anyone else getting in the way, then it was Chris himself who made it impossible.

This afternoon Chris was in a morose and restless frame of mind, for example – which wasn’t exactly unusual, but if something was going to happen between them, Vin didn’t want it to taste of anger or despair. Only twice had Chris reached out for him, despite the fact it had become obvious that Chris was hungering. Only twice: once in the stables, and once on the restaurant’s back steps. And that’s the way Vin wanted it to happen if it was going to. He didn’t want to force it; he just wanted to let it begin naturally and easily. If Vin was the one who had to do the reaching, he wanted Chris to at least be in the mood to accept him with love.

“Chris, my God,” Buck was complaining. “Why the hell are you so jittery?”

“What?” Chris irritably responded.

“Hell, you almost took my thumb off with that hammer. Watch yourself!” When Chris turned away, Buck called after him, “Hey, I know what _you’re_ needing! Time to relieve all that tension, my frisky friend, before you do any more damage.”

“Mind your own damn business, Buck.”

“Yeah, why don’t you ride out to Wickes’ Town tomorrow, and take your damned business with you?”

“And why don’t you think with your brain for once?” Chris retorted.

Josiah, a former preacher, just laughed at such talk in this holy place – but Vin noticed they had company, and loudly cleared his throat.

Mary Travis was standing in the doorway, looking a trifle flustered. Vin didn’t figure she’d heard much, but she was more than smart enough to pick up the anger and the lewdness. “Gentlemen,” she greeted them. “Mr. Larabee, I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.”

“Yeah, what?” he bluntly asked.

She stood her ground. “You know John Heath usually helps me run the printing press each week, but he fractured his arm this morning. He was thrown from his horse. Nathan asked me to let you all know that’s where he is. Anyway, I was hoping you could help me tonight instead.”

Buck let out a quiet snort as if to imply this was excellent timing – Chris glared at him. “All right. What time?”

“About eight? I’ll have supper ready, if you’d like it.”

“Sure.”

And Chris glanced at Vin, who endeavored to maintain a steady expression. After all, if Chris was feeling as needy as Buck assumed, then Vin very much wanted to be the one to answer that need – not Mary and not the working girls. But he couldn’t betray as much, not in company, maybe not even to Chris. Because Chris had to make his own decisions.

“I’ll bring Vin,” Chris announced. “An extra pair of hands, if you have the extra supper.”

To her credit, Mary didn’t seem at all fazed by this change in plans. “Of course. Thank you, Mr. Larabee. Mr. Tanner. I’ll see you both tonight.” And she withdrew.

Vin couldn’t help but smile; especially when Chris cast him a look made of equal parts wryness and impatience. He couldn’t help but smile because he was certain by now that he and Chris had somehow managed to wordlessly reach an understanding. What they could ever do about it, Vin had no idea, but this would be enough for now.

♦

Chris did indeed ride out to Wickes’ Town, the pimp’s tent-village of prostitutes and their male visitors. Lydia came to greet him, as usual, with a kiss and a sassy comment. “Larabee, I don’t know if you like me or you’re just too absent-minded to turn your horse in a different direction.”

“_Like_ you?” he murmured, letting his mouth quirk into a smile. “I don’t even know you, lady.”

“Oh, right. After all this time you want to start playing The Greenhorn… when if it wasn’t for your business, Chris Larabee, we wouldn’t have a regular trail leading all the way back to town.”

“Maybe it’s my horse that likes you.”

She rolled her eyes, then took his arm. “Your horse can’t afford me.”

Usually they went straight to her tent, but this afternoon Chris said, “Let’s get a drink.”

They sat together at the bar, talking in the foolish but honest way they did, skirting around a lot of important topics but being utterly open about others. Lydia was her usual sharp and lovely self, as patient as always with his silences; Chris knew that if he took her to bed, he’d find as much physical satisfaction as he ever had. But, damn it all to hell, it was becoming more and more obvious to him that the only person he really wanted right now was Vin. And he owed both Lydia and Vin more than this.

“Lydia,” Chris eventually said, “I don’t know that I’ll be coming back here again.”

“All right,” she replied in easy tones. Of course it was all right; he was hardly her only customer, not even her only regular. A moment passed before she asked, “Do you want to tell me why?”

He shrugged. “There’s someone…”

“In town?”

“Yeah.”

Lydia nodded, apparently not at all put out by this. “That’s good, Larabee. I’m glad for you. I always figured you’d return to the respectable life one day.”

“Respectable?” he repeated with a surprised laugh, unable to characterize his relationship with Vin that way, no matter what might or mightn’t happen between them… He dug in his pocket for the small roll of bills, and handed it over.

“I can’t take this,” Lydia protested.

“Sure you can. Cover the drop in your income for a few weeks.”

She shook her head. “Hell, you weren’t _that_ regular, Larabee.”

“Take it,” he said. And he leaned in to kiss her farewell.

“Stay and talk for a while,” she murmured. So he did.

The amusing thing was that when Lydia and her colleagues came to town not long after, endeavoring to escape from their pimp Wickes, Lydia leapt to the conclusion that Chris’s someone was Mary Travis. It made for a troublesome few days…

♦

Vin went to the saloon late one night, looking for a little warmth and solace in whisky; instead he found Lydia there looking splendid but dissatisfied in her fancy clothes. “Don’t worry,” she said when he turned to consider her, “I’m not working.”

“It don’t matter to me,” Vin told her quite honestly. There was a wrench inside of him at the thought that it was easier than ever for Chris and Lydia to keep company now, and no reason on Earth why they shouldn’t. Although Vin had to confess it seemed that Chris was spending more time than ever with Vin himself…

Lydia explained that she and her colleagues had decided to abide by the town’s rules while they visited, which meant that they mustn’t work. The town hadn’t exactly been welcoming. As if aware of Vin’s more personal concern, Lydia added, “Mr. Larabee ain’t as friendly as he usually is, neither.” And, naturally enough, she sounded sad about that.

Gently, Vin said, “Maybe he don’t want to get caught between you and the town.”

“You mean between me and Mrs Travis.”

He turned away at that, almost betraying the tiny hurt that stabbed through him. A moment passed by, though, and Vin recovered his composure. There had never been any guarantees of him winning Chris’s affections, in any case. Nothing had changed. Eventually Chris would make a decision, one way or the other, and Vin could be patient until then.

♦

Chris breathed a sigh of relief when Lydia and her friends announced they were moving on for good. This whole incident had blown his neatly organized life wide open… It wasn’t that he was a dishonest man, and it certainly wasn’t that he regretted any of the decisions he’d made; but he knew that society expected certain things to be kept in separate compartments, and when the boundaries broke, things could get tricky if not downright nasty.

Vin, thank God, maintained his usual equanimity throughout, despite everyone assuming that Chris was in the middle of a tug-of-war between Lydia and Mary Travis. Chris sometimes figured that Vin was Sanity personified.

Once she’d decided to go, Lydia didn’t farewell him. But Chris figured she knew her companionship would be missed, whether he ended up with his someone or not. Lydia Montgomery was one of a kind.

♦

Vin spent a long afternoon sitting under the wooden awning of the sheriff’s office. J.D. said he had business to take care of, and he’d asked Vin to keep an eye on the prisoner in the cells. The town was quiet in the dry summer heat, and everything felt kind of slow and peaceful.

Chris arrived to keep Vin company, but they didn’t speak. Sitting on the bench just out of arm’s reach, Chris produced a book from his back pocket, and promptly lost himself in soaking up the words. Vin was happy just watching him, for Chris was a handsome man at the worst of times – and at moments like this, when he was relaxed enough to almost appear content, Chris was quite breathtaking.

Strange, that Chris had come to return something of Vin’s feelings for him, without once talking about it. But, Vin reflected, their best moments had always been wordless, right from that first meeting just down the street from here.

He wondered what Chris was reading, and whether Chris could possibly get as much sustenance from the book as Vin himself was getting from simply being in Chris’s company. Vin was perfectly aware that he was becoming quite absurd – and yet he didn’t bother trying to find somewhere else to rest his gaze. Figuring he was free to indulge his fancies, Vin imagined what he’d do when he finally had his hands on that strength. The feel of Chris’s skin under his palms; the play of muscle and bone as he shifted and pushed; the hunger of Chris’s mouth finally set free. Vin wondered whether Chris would demand complete surrender; but he knew that whatever Chris did would be imbued with respect.

Chris reached the end of a chapter, and headed off again with nothing more than a farewell nod. Indulging himself, Vin gazed after the lean black-clad form until Chris turned the corner of a building and finally left Vin’s sight.

Someone cleared his throat from just behind him, and Vin was startled enough that his heart raced. When he spun around, hand reaching for his gun, he found Ezra standing there with a devilish smirk on his face. Ezra leaned close to murmur, “Actually, Mr. Tanner, when J.D. asked you to keep an eye out for desperadoes this afternoon… I don’t think he meant the likes of Mr. Larabee.”

Vin tried to quell the man with a stare, but that wasn’t going to work when he felt so idiotic for getting caught in the first place. It was obvious from the glint in the con-man’s eyes that he understood what was going on. So much for Vin being unobtrusive. Unfortunately, based on his history with Chris thus far, Vin could only assume this would prove to be yet another obstacle in their path…

Eventually Ezra had mercy on him, however; he tipped his hat, and strolled on towards the saloon.

Vin was left in solitude for an hour or more, endeavoring to regain his earlier peaceful feelings; until J.D. returned with all his youngster’s energy. “I’m gonna have to bunk with you for a while, Mr. Tanner,” he announced.

This was so unexpected that Vin actually gaped for a moment. “Pardon?”

“I lost my room at the boarding house. They said all along it was only available until this friend of Mrs Travis’s got back to town, it’s his regular room, but you know I was kind of counting on staying there. You’ve got plenty of space up where you are, don’t you?”

“Well, there’s only the one room –”

“Don’t worry about that, Mr. Tanner, I don’t expect much. I’ll just sleep in my bedroll on the floor.” J.D. grinned at him, pleased as punch. “I love it out here,” he declared. “Back East I couldn’t do this, bunking down with my friends at a moment’s notice. It’s one adventure after another in the West.”

“Why don’t you stay with Buck?” Vin suggested. “The two of you get along real well.”

J.D. grimaced at him as if he couldn’t believe Vin’s ignorance of the ways of the world. “Mr. Wilmington wouldn’t hardly let me share his room when he has so much company coming and going, now would he?”

Vin dropped his head in despair for a moment. Of course Buck’s grand seduction of the world’s entire female population mustn’t be interrupted. “J.D.,” Vin said very evenly, “didn’t it occur to you that I might have company sometimes, too?”

“No,” was the immediate reply. Then J.D. thought about this for a long moment. The answer remained the same. “No, I ain’t never seen you with anyone, Mr. Tanner. And that’s all right, you know,” the kid hastened to reassure him: “I figured you were saving yourself. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Oh God,” Vin muttered rather gracelessly. At this rate he would go to his grave a very disappointed old man, having never even _kissed_ Chris Larabee…

“It’ll be all right, won’t it? I didn’t want to ask any of the others.”

“It’s all right,” Vin eventually agreed. “I guess if I give you the key, you can move your gear in now…”

♦

Damn it, Chris _wanted_ this with Vin – just for a night, or maybe a few nights, and he’d try like hell to make sure Vin came to no harm because of it. Chris hadn’t managed to protect Sarah; he wouldn’t tempt Fate by calling how he felt for Vin “love”, or by asking for all that Vin had, or by giving too much.

The trouble was that Chris feared once he’d started this – if he ever got the opportunity to start it – maybe he’d never stop. Vin was too… alluring, in his quiet, masculine, no-nonsense way. And too decent for Chris to ever be unfair to. Maybe Chris would never be able to say farewell.

If only they could make a start. Time enough afterwards for figuring out where that left them.

Perhaps the trick would be to get out of town. Chris found Vin at the hardware store, shifting boxes and other gear for his former employer. Once Chris had helped with the last of the required tasks, he beckoned Vin outside. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Vin met his gaze, and read Chris’s need. He nodded once, expression resolute, his entire self full of anticipation. There would be no more interruptions, no more demands from others, even if that meant their first time would take place somewhere out in the wilderness.

Wordlessly they headed down the street to the stables. No one paid them any attention whatsoever. They saddled their horses – Chris strapping on his bedroll – and headed out at a walk. No one tried to divert them. So far, so good. They were already beyond the town’s wooden buildings, and passing the more temporary tents and huts. Vin was daring to smile in satisfaction, and Chris couldn’t resist letting his mouth curl in response. This was one beautiful man riding beside him.

“Mr. Larabee!”

_Christ, what now?_

“Mr. Larabee!” It was Agatha Caelli, a young widow with a small ranch located north of the town. She pulled up to them in her one-horse cart. “I’m so glad I caught you, Mr. Larabee. I need to ask for your help.”

“Ma’am.”

“There’s a group of men who want the mining rights to my property, Mr. Larabee, and I’ve been handling them on my own; but now Sam Kendall’s gotten involved, my neighbor’s boy. He’s only seventeen. I’m scared he’ll start something he can’t deal with, and people will get hurt. Can you come out to the ranch for the night? They said they’d come back, and I think they meant later tonight. They scare off pretty easily, so I thought if you were there you might finish this once and for all…”

Well before the end of Mrs Caelli’s breathless spiel, Chris had dropped his head so that his face was hidden by his hat brim. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t do as she asked, because this was exactly why the judge had hired the seven of them; but he couldn’t help but feel reluctant. Vin was the first thing Chris had wanted for himself – the first thing other than destruction – for three very long years. And they seemed fated never to connect.

“Well, ma’am,” Vin replied, smoothly filling in the silence, “we had plans for the day, but I suppose they’ll keep.” After a moment he added, “They _will_ keep, won’t they, Chris?”

Which wasn’t so much an expression of doubt as a declaration of faith. Neither of them had really spoken about this yet; it felt good to acknowledge it in this small way. Chris looked up at Vin, and nodded.

“Why don’t you have a coffee at the restaurant, ma’am?” Vin continued. “Or conduct any other business you have. We’ll collect a few things, then we’ll ride back out with you.”

Of course, other than Chris’s bedroll, they hadn’t bothered packing an arsenal or any other gear for the intended liaison. Quickly and wordlessly Chris and Vin prepared for a few days’ absence, and then they stopped off to let Buck and J.D. know where they’d be.

It was as they were escorting Mrs Caelli out of town that Ezra caught up with them. “Ma’am,” he said, as he eased his horse to a walk. “Gentlemen,” he urbanely greeted Chris and Vin.

“What do you want?” Chris demanded.

“Having a vested interest in my own continued good health, I decided it would be prudent for me to leave town for a while,” the con-man declared. “When Buck told me of your current mission, I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone…”

Vin looked quite exasperated. “Why? What have you done now?”

“I’ve done nothing wrong! But there’s a fellow who lost rather a lot to me during a poker game, and I find that he and I can’t agree to disagree about certain related matters.” Ezra observed confidingly to Agatha Caelli, “Sometimes I fear there’s a dearth of true gentlemen in this town.”

“You may be right about that,” Mrs Caelli responded, with enough archness to suggest she wasn’t taken in by Ezra’s innocent posturing.

Chris sighed and rode on with these three – one chosen companion, one accepted, and one barely tolerated. God or Fate, or whatever else was choosing his path, was not kind.

♦

It soon became obvious that Mrs Caelli’s seventeen-year-old neighbor was involved in the situation for many reasons, only one of them being a love of justice. His enthusiasm for protecting the woman sprang from his partiality for her, as well as from his untried youth.

Vin observed all this with wry amusement. When Ezra had a moment alone with Chris and Vin, he murmured, “Did you hear that? He called her _Agate_. She’s his precious stone…”

“I wish him luck,” Vin said firmly. “If they care about each other, it’s a good match.”

“She’s twice his age,” Ezra said.

Vin insisted, “It’s a good match for both of them.”

Ezra stared at him for a moment with those sharp light eyes, and then he smiled. “Don’t misunderstand me, Tanner – I am quite delighted by the pair. I do believe that the best relationships are the unconventional ones.” And an insinuating look conveyed his more personal message.

Chris just stared blankly at Ezra, though Vin knew he must have taken his meaning. Vin himself grimaced impatiently; he could not deny, however, that he was a tad charmed by the reference. Not that he needed any encouragement for loving Chris Larabee.

“If we could keep to the business at hand,” Chris said flatly, “we’re here to deal with intimidation, not romance.”

Vin didn’t have intimidation on his mind later that night, though. Ezra and young Sam Kendall were outside keeping watch; Mrs Caelli had retired to her bedroom; and Chris and Vin were meant to be resting so they’d be ready to take the next watch. It was late enough that they weren’t necessarily expecting any trouble.

Unable to settle, Vin prowled up and down the back veranda where Mrs Caelli had her washing tubs and her clothes-wringer. Vin was very conscious of Chris waiting in the main room, and he was supernally aware of what he wanted to do with the man. It seemed too cruel to go inside, to be together with the illusion of privacy and shared domesticity. Though that was crazy – if Vin couldn’t stand to be with Chris under such circumstances, then sooner or later he wouldn’t be able to stand being with Chris at all. And that made no sense whatsoever, when everything in him yearned to be nowhere other than beside him.

Eventually Vin headed inside, quietly stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind him. Past the kitchen and the dining table, around the corner; and there was Chris curled up on a chair in front of the fire. His face was so calm and handsome in sleep that Vin found himself falling for him all over again. A book was held loosely against Chris’s chest; perhaps he dreamed of what he’d been reading about, running free in the permissiveness of imagination…

Vin crept closer and stood there with his back to the fire, watching his love and thinking about the most invigorating rest of all.

Slow minutes passed, and the grandfather clock chimed the half-hour. Chris rose from sleep as if he were a swimmer breaking through the surface of a gentle lake. He took a breath, and met Vin’s gaze, mirroring the wanting. A moment of blessedly perfect communication.

Chris stood, and took the two steps to reach Vin. They were at last going to kiss, there could be no doubt of it. After all this time, all this hunger, Chris’s perfectly shaped mouth would meet his own, and…

“Gentlemen –”

Vin groaned in despair and turned away.

It was, of course, Ezra. He had the nerve to chuckle under his breath. “Gentlemen, there’s a time and a place for all things.”

“I’m seriously beginning to doubt that,” Vin muttered dryly – which earned him a quiet snort of laughter from Chris, when Vin had expected anger at being caught. Resting his hands on the rough wooden mantelpiece, he hung his head.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but I do believe we are about to have company.”

“How many?” asked Chris, all brusque business. “And I told you not to leave young Kendall alone.”

Chagrin colored Ezra’s cheeks – he’d never had much of a poker face around Chris. “There’s only five of them, and they’re not well-armed.”

Vin dragged himself away from vain wishes, and went to do what he’d come here for.

It wasn’t difficult to meet the threat with a greater one – Chris Larabee alone had enough of a bad reputation for that, let alone with two of the rest of his colleagues standing beside him. Their leader fired his gun once, wildly, but Chris, Vin, Ezra and Mrs Caelli had all five of the men covered before any of the others could even draw. From there it was easy.

Unfortunately that wild shot had taken a patch of skin off Sam Kendall’s forearm, but Vin soon had that patched up. Moments later Sam was grinning happily again because Chris told the kid he’d done well in not crying out at the time and distracting everyone.

The next day and night remained undisturbed, so the three men left the following morning after promising to return at any time they were needed. Vin’s last sight of Mrs Caelli was of her waving her right hand in farewell, while Sam Kendall slipped closer and took her left hand into his. He couldn’t help but smile at young Sam having a far better opportunity than himself.

♦

It was Sunday morning, and the good people of the town were enjoying what passed as their day of rest out here in the West. Chris was sharing a late breakfast with Vin, neither of them talking much. By this stage, the two of them were simply waiting for a chance to be alone. It seemed as if this morning might be it. _Well, it had better be_, Chris thought. He’d lost any patience he might have had some while ago.

But that was when Josiah showed up. “My friends,” he announced, “I’m pleased to be able to tell you the church’s restoration is finally complete.”

“Congratulations, Josiah,” Vin murmured. Chris offered Josiah a wary smile.

“I’m holding a spiritual meeting there today at noon to mark the occasion. Completely non-denominational, of course; everybody’s welcome. I’d be honored if you’d both come along.”

Chris didn’t say a word; he just sat back in his chair, and stared away at nothing much in particular. Had he really expected anything else? This thing between him and Vin just wasn’t meant to be.

After a long moment passed, Vin quietly said, “Josiah, I was planning on committing a sin instead.”

“Then you need this more than anyone,” the giant preacher rumbled, mouth stretching in amusement.

“There are so many souls to save in this town,” Vin countered with an observation Josiah himself often made. “Can’t mine wait until next Sunday?”

“No, sir, apparently not.”

When it looked like Vin had given in, Chris muttered, “I don’t believe in your God, Josiah, not anymore.”

“Brother, I have more doubts than faith myself. But the important thing to remember is that our god or our gods believe in us unstintingly…”

Chris shook his head, and surrendered. After all, he and Vin did owe this man. The seven of them weren’t caught in a “one for all, all for one” deal, but they backed each other’s play. At least when it mattered – and this mattered to Josiah. The man had put his generous heart and his considerable strength into rebuilding the church for the sake of the townsfolk. “All right,” Chris said.

“Thank you, my friends. Peace be with you.” And Josiah left to spread the word further.

Vin and Chris sat together in silence for a while. Eventually Vin said, “Noon’s an hour away. Lot a man can do in an hour.”

But he sounded dispirited about the prospect, which was right: this deserved better than to be rushed. Chris sighed, and leaned his arms on the table. “More coffee?” he suggested.

Smiling ruefully, Vin nodded agreement.

♦

Sunday night. Like most of these friends of his, Vin was on the wrong side of a crisis of faith – but that didn’t mean he wasn’t praying right now. He and Chris were walking casually down the main street, trying not to attract any attention, waiting for the next interruption. Hell, they were almost tiptoeing.

But apparently everyone was engaged in their own business, and no one seemed to need any help. Buck had been in the mood to spend the night drinking with his buddies, but when Chris demurred Buck had let them go. J.D. was, of course, with Buck. Nathan had gone off to tend a rancher’s family who’d caught some kind of illness, but the healer was content to take only Josiah with him. Mary Travis was dining with friends, but she hadn’t asked Chris along as her companion. Vin dared to hope that he needn’t wait for his love any longer.

As they passed the sheriff’s office, Ezra stepped out onto the sidewalk. Vin kept slowly walking on, but something within him had already sunk. Now it would come, the request for assistance or advice, the demand on Chris’s leadership. Beside him, Chris had also tensed.

Ezra’s light gaze found theirs, and he seemed to immediately understand what their goal was. A long moment stretched as Ezra smiled mischievously. This could be his chance for a bit of fun at their expense.

But at last Ezra simply tipped his hat at them, and politely nodded as if to wish them godspeed.

Vin nodded in reply, and walked on at Chris’s side.

Even as they reached Chris’s room, Vin felt he couldn’t quite rely on this finally happening. Chris moved around quietly, lighting a lamp, and locking the door securely. Then a still moment passed as they just stood there, avoiding each other’s gazes, waiting for the inevitable knock at the door or holler from the street. _Mr. Larabee!_

Nothing.

The two of them were alone. Vin looked across at his love, and met those bright eyes which were darkening with arousal. Even though Vin was sure Chris had little or no experience to draw on in this situation, the man seemed utterly confident. Maybe that was the benefit of this long wait – there could be no more uncertainties.

And Chris took a step towards him, and Vin was moving, too – and the two men were surging into each other’s arms, mouths meeting in a maddened kiss, a surplus of passion at last unleashed.

They made mistakes at first, and they fumbled, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they continue. Letting the mutual hunger loose like this only served to increase it, so that the imperative to devour each other felt delightfully dangerous…

Amidst the neverending kiss, Vin began clumsily working at Chris’s clothes and was provoked into further efforts by feeling Chris’s fingers undoing his buttons; they had both gone for the other’s trousers rather than shirts. In fact, they both still had their coats on.

Vin didn’t care. Once they’d unfastened enough for his purposes, he alternately pushed and followed Chris to the bed. Then Vin collapsed back across it, his booted feet still on the floor, bringing Chris with him, settling Chris between his thighs. A minor adjustment or two – and then the glory of Chris’s hardness was pressing directly against his own.

Chris gave the deepest of groans. He took his weight on his elbows, cradled Vin’s head in both hands, renewed their needy kiss. Vin slipped his own hands into Chris’s trousers, quickly searched for more bare flesh, took firm hold – and then he began rocking as best he could, encouraging Chris to match his rhythm. And Chris understood immediately. Feet finding leverage against the floor, Chris drove them both beyond any thought of control…

The end was upon Vin before he was barely aware of it. He arched up away from the bed, almost strong enough to dislodge Chris in his passion; and then he surrendered, letting this ultimate joy pulse through him as Chris maintained a ragged pattern of thrusts. Those night-sky eyes watched him, drinking in Vin’s pleasure, taking a man’s pride in creating such a potent reaction.

“Give it to me,” Vin demanded, still gripped by the fervor. “Give it to me _now_, Chris.”

An evident internal battle with the urge to surrender, and then Chris’s seed was mingling with Vin’s; those darkened eyes betraying an excess of vulnerability for a moment, before Chris wrapped Vin up in his arms and buried his face against Vin’s shoulder. Another groan tore away from Chris as they rode out the quakes.

Once they’d both quietened, Chris rolled off Vin, and lay back beside him, his booted feet thudding to a heavy rest on the wooden floorboards, his spurs chiming. “All right?” Chris asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Oh yeah,” Chris replied with a touch of wryness. After a moment, he hauled himself to his feet; and though he rearranged his trousers, he shrugged off his long black coat. Then he wandered over to stand by the window.

Vin lay there, not sure what to expect next. He wanted more, of course he wanted more of this, but he had no idea what Chris intended. Simply watching him was a pleasure; memories and echoes of their consummation brought to mind wonderful details Vin had had no chance to pay attention to at the time. It soon became obvious that Vin’s hunger was ready again, and he didn’t bother hiding that, though Chris might not even have noticed anyway… Vin waited patiently.

♦

Chris knew what Vin deserved; the only question remaining was whether Chris had faith enough to give it.

The act they’d just performed had been too hurried, but its very urgency had only proved the strength of their feelings. The sensuality of it had been… incredible. Right now, Chris should be holding Vin close, reassuring him rather than abandoning him, but his doubts had driven him away. _Be honest, Larabee_, he rebuked himself, _your doubts and **fears**_. Such terrible harm had come to Sarah as a result of his giving in to that first miracle; he couldn’t bear it if Vin met a similar fate, he literally would not be able to bear it.

“Chris?” Vin eventually murmured.

Turning around, Chris saw Vin standing by the bed; there was a hint of uncertainty about him, rare for Vin Tanner.

“I don’t want to go yet,” Vin murmured, “but I will if you want me to.”

“You don’t know what you’re risking,” Chris told him.

Vin did not misunderstand him. He fixed Chris with those warm eyes. “I think I do. In any case, it’s my decision.”

A moment dragged by as Chris faced that. It had been Sarah’s decision to make; this was Vin’s. And it wasn’t as if Sarah had been any more foolhardy than Vin. Why they should think Chris Larabee was reward enough for the danger involved, he had no idea – but it seemed they both did.

Chris looked at Vin, and found the courage to lift his chin in agreement.

Walking on silent feet, Vin approached him, half solemn and half joyous. Then they were in each other’s arms, as urgently as the first time, but far more carefully now. In fact, the embrace became so tender that Chris ached with it.

He knew exactly what Vin Tanner deserved. Chris gave his soul to him.

♦

“Maybe I should go now,” Vin offered when the night had wound most of the way towards dawn, though he couldn’t have felt more reluctant if he tried. As if anyone could ever want to leave the warmth of Chris Larabee’s bed, his embrace and his kisses and his love-making, his handsome nakedness.

“Stay,” Chris said, sounding no more than half awake.

“J.D.’s still sleeping on my floor, remember… If I don’t show up, he’ll pester me till I tell him a convincing story about who I was with.”

“So tell him the truth.”

That woke Vin up as effectively as a bucket of cold water would have done. “Pardon?”

Chris opened his eyes, and gazed at Vin with unflinching honesty. “Right now, the only person who knows about this is a con-man. I’d just as soon make it clear this isn’t such a big secret.”

Vin took a moment with that. It made sense, of course – but, “Ezra wouldn’t blackmail us.”

“The idea’s already occurred to him, Vin; whatever else he is, he ain’t slow. We’ll let one or two friends know, that’s all. I sure ain’t planning on putting a notice in Mary’s paper.”

Chuckling, Vin said, “I’ll tell J.D. I was with you, and he’ll assume we were off somewhere saving lives again…”

“We were,” Chris rawly asserted. And there was the unspoken message in his gaze: **_You_**_ were. You’re saving my life_.

The only way Vin could possibly reply to that was to kiss him…

♦


End file.
